Secret Keeper
by Adaren
Summary: At the close of OotP, we learn Trelawney's prophecy. Seven years after that, it's learned that it's not finished. Harry Potter must be hidden, and Ginny is doing the hiding. Draco Malfoy... he's doing the finding. *Full Summary Inside* --D/G
1. Prologue

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Disclaimer: Calynn Markova, Brian O'Rourke, Ismene O'Connell, et al, are my own characters. All recognizable characters belong to JK Rowling. The name Ismene belongs to Sophocles, and comes from the play Antigone, part of Oedipus Rex. All songs, quotes, etc, at the beginning of each chapter will be credited as they are listed. Familiar locations, including but not limited to St. Mungo's, Diagon Alley, and Hogwarts, all belong to JKR. Castell Dinas Bran is a real castle in North Eastern Wales, and I obviously don't own that. 

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Author's Notes: I'm writing this piece of fanfiction as an insane Draco/Ginny shipper who has resigned herself to the idea of H/G in canon. I hope to finish this beauty before HP6 arrives, and if the length of time between GoF and OotP is any indication, I have a while. Flames shall be disregarded. That said, constructive criticism is always welcome. Feel free to email me at gac_tera@hotmail.com if you have any questions of comments. There will be various ships in here, most of them original, but there is a trace of R/Hr. I personally think that there's hardly enough to scare anyone away from the fic, but that's your own personal choice. My pairing of George Weasley/Juliana Fawcett is nearly canon. (Kind of.) If you look through GoF, you'll see several mentions of a girl and family named Fawcett, so I gave her a first name and engaged her to George. 

Last, thank you so much to my wonderful and amazing betas, Rea and Jess. I'd definitely be a wreck without you guys! ****

Full Summary: Seven years after the Second Great War began, a new part of Trelawney's prophecy is discovered. Harry Potter must be hidden, at any and every cost, or the Dark Lord will never fall. 

A Secret-Keeper is chosen, and the world is told that Harry Potter, the boy who lived, lives no more. Harry was whisked away, to a place that only Dumbledore and that Secret-Keeper knew. 

Ginny Weasley was that Secret-Keeper. 

Draco Malfoy was the Death Eater sent to kidnap her, and uncover Harry's location…

As the war dragged on, ruining lives and ripping families asunder, it becomes more and more difficult for Draco to try and discover Harry's hiding place and more and more difficult for Ginny to keep it a secret. 

Together, they discover that there is no such thing as true evil and true goodness, that help is sometimes found in the least likely of places…

And that love is truly blind. 

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Prologue: November 2003

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Once you love, you cannot take it back; you cannot undo it. What you felt may have changed, shifted slightly, yet still remains love… -- Whitney Otto

Severus Snape's dungeons were always cold, but that November day they seemed even more frigid than I was accustomed to. There was frost on the windows, and it spelled out intricate designs, each as unique as a snowflake or a spider's web. I can still remember staring out those windows, watching dusk fall onto the Hogwarts grounds, seeing lights blinking on all the way in Hogsmeade. I'd thought it looked like a Christmas card. 

I shivered subconsciously, and the man beside me noticed before I did. He wrapped his arms around my stomach, and I leaned back into his warmth, savouring the feeling of being in this man's arms. I glanced across the boiling cauldron, staring at my youngest brother and my newest – though, oldest – sister. Ron's face was drawn with worry and he periodically glanced from the cauldron to me to the man holding me. Hermione looked sad and lonely, and I wanted to scream at Ron, tell him to take her into his arms and get her out of there. 

We must have stood there for hours in silence, all eight of us. Professor Snape's face was grave as he watched the potion slowly turn from green to utterly clear. Dumbledore was silent as he stared out the window, no doubt remembering the last time he'd been at the distribution of this potion, not yet twenty-three years in the past. George stood next to Ron, his arm wrapped around his fiancée, Juliana Fawcett's waist. George occasionally mumbled suggestions to Snape, whose head shot up with fierce stares, but occasionally followed them. Juliana's eyes were dry, but tearstains from hours before could still be seen on her pale cheeks. 

Finally, Snape looked up. "Potter."

"It's ready then?"

"Yes. You and Miss Weasley are going to need to remain here." He turned and glanced at Professor Dumbledore. "Are you sure about this, professor?"

"Oh, quite sure Severus," he murmured absently. 

He glanced at Harry, an eyebrow raised. "There are some people you'd like to say good bye to, aren't there?"

Harry jumped, and walked towards Juliana, giving her an almost brusque hug. "Good luck," she whispered, smiling. He half-smiled back at her and turned to George. 

"They'll find Fred. You know they're going to. Angelina won't let them stop looking until he's found." 

George managed a weak smile, though I could see tears in his eyes at the mention of his twin. 

It was several moments before I realized I was crying as well. 

Harry moved to Ron and Hermione next, singling out Hermione first. He hugged her gently, and whispered something into her ear. She laughed a little, and said, "Don't… don't forget though, the two of us." As Harry rolled his eyes, she continued: "Hurry home, Harry…"

Harry gave her a small smile and glanced at Ron. "Seems like that depends on you, doesn't it, Strategists Master?"

Ron's ears turned red, and he started spluttering. "Of course it doesn't… I don't know where you come off, saying things like that…," he trailed off and looked down at his best friend. "Good luck, Harry."

Harry grinned cheekily, the nervousness in his eyes barely apparent. "I don't believe in luck." Harry punched Ron's shoulder lightly, and turned quickly. 

I was the only one to see the tears in his eyes before Dumbledore announced it was time for the others to leave, that the potion was ready. 

When the dungeons were empty save the four of us that remained, Harry finally turned to me. Hands, callused from Muggle defense training, cradled my face. Once they had been callused from gripping brooms and stray snitches. His thumbs traced along the remnants of my tears; so softly I could barely feel the pressure. His gentleness made me start crying all over again.

"Ahh, Gin, don't cry…" he murmured as I collapsed into his chest, soaking his robes with salty tears. "Ginny, I never could stand making you cry… please don't let my last memory of you be one where you're crying because of me."

I lifted my face and kissed him frantically, desperate to have the feeling of his lips imprinted on mine forever. My tears gradually stopped flowing and I managed a weak smile. "I love you Harry."

"I love you too, Ginny Weasley."

Our declarations might have gone on for quite some time, had not an awkward cough from the direction of Snape stopped us. 

The rest of that night is lost in a blur to me: I have a memory of drinking a substance that could have passed as water, Harry leaning down and whispering in my ear a secret location, giving me a final kiss. Dumbledore announcing, "The Fidelius charm has been administered."

And then standing in those cold dungeons with only Snape's expressionless face to comfort me, as Dumbledore whisked my Harry away, into the night.

I would not see him again for nearly three years.


	2. I

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Author's Note: Thanks to my wonderful betas, **Rea** and **Jess**. 

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Chapter One: June 2005

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Well I've been afraid of changin'

'Cause I've built my life around you

But time makes you bolder; children get older

I'm getting older too....

-Fleetwood Mac

"Doctor… before you go in there… there's just been an owl for you."

Ginny stopped with her hand hovering above the doorknob, and turned to the young orderly, trying to remember his name. "Oh! Thank you… Thomas?"

"Timothy," he replied with a cheeky grin.

"Oh, dear… sorry." With an apologetic smile, Ginny took the offered parchment, and thanked the young man before opening the letter. When she saw the rows of Hermione's neat script – followed by a few lines of Ron's horrid writing – she smiled in delight. 

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Dear Ginny, the letter began:

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I hope you're doing well. We're doing quite all right, all things considered. Jamie is sitting up on his own now. Your mum says that we should count our blessings, as once he begins to crawl we're not going to have a moment's rest. I don't think I'll mind very much. 

Ginny skimmed through the rest of Hermione's talk about the baby, deciding to read that later, after she had seen her patient. She continued reading when she got to Ron's part of the note:

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As your birthday is coming up soon, you will of course be coming home. (Don't try to argue with me, Ginny… you don't have any excuse, your lack of apparating skills withstanding.) Don't tell them I told you, but I have a sneaking suspicion that mum and dad are planning a party. I know you're not overly fond of surprises, so I figured I'd give you fair warning. 

What do you want, anyhow? I have no idea what the bloody hell is going on with you anymore; you work far too much. I was thinking something along the lines of… well I wasn't thinking along the lines of anything, seeing as how I have **no idea**. 

Can't wait to see you on the 24th, little sister. 

-Your caring, affectionate, handsome, favourite brother, 

Ron

Rolling her eyes, Ginny folded the letter and shoved it into the pocket of her robes. She opened the door to the small room where her patient was waiting with a cheerful, "Hello, Sam! What can I do for you today…?"

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-*-

When Ginny came stumbling out of the fireplace into her mother's kitchen, she was greeted by a thunderous "Surprise!" before she had even gotten her bearings. Blinking the soot from her eyes, she put on her most startled face and avoided Ron's eyes. 

"What's all this, then? Mum? Dad?" She exclaimed, rapidly making an inventory of all the family members who were in attendance. 

"We just figured that you'd been working so hard, lately, Ginny dear, so what better to relieve stress than with a birthday party!" Mrs. Weasley said, grinning so hard that it looked as if her face was about to fall off. 

"Oh, Mum, you didn't have to do all this..." Ginny murmured, eyeing the decorations that covered the walls. Seeing the look that started to work its way onto her mother's face however, she quickly recovered herself. "But I appreciate it just the same, so thank you! It's wonderful to see you all," she said, a little too perkily. She started across the room, brushing soot away from her clothes as she went, and began hugging people, starting with her mother. 

When Ginny had completed the circuit, she sent a meaningful glance at Hermione and threw her bag over her shoulder. "I suppose I'd better put this upstairs…" she murmured, hoping Hermione got the hint.

Well, she wasn't the smartest witch Hogwarts had ever seen for nothing. 

"Oh, I'll come with you. I need to get up there to check on Jamie, anyhow."

Ginny paused on the third stair and waited for Hermione to catch up with her. When Hermione did, she muttered, "I hope you're not upset with Ron for telling you about this… I told him not to, but he told me he knew you better than I did…"

As they continued up the stairs, past her brother's bedroom doors and crooked paintings on the walls, Ginny grinned. "No, I'm not upset with him. He's right you know," she murmured, carefully looking away from Fred and George's old bedroom. "I don't like surprises much."

They'd reached Ginny's old room. Tentatively, Ginny opened the door, as if checking to make sure there were no unseen attackers present. It looked exactly the same as it had at Christmas; the pale yellow paint on the walls beginning to chip in the corners, the once-cheery curtains on the two small windows faded, a single photograph on the bedside table. The bookshelves were full, full of great Muggle and wizarding classics alike. The two of them entered and Ginny dropped her bag next to the bed. 

"So how's work, then?" Hermione asked, more to break the silence than anything else. 

"Oh, all right I suppose. Things have been quiet for a while, ever since the battle at Surrey." Ginny sat down on her bed, looking down and tracing the paisley swirls on the duvet cover with a slender finger. 

At the mention of the Battle of Surrey, Hermione shivered. Ron had been stationed there, recovering from a minor injury, and she'd gone to visit him when the Death Eaters had attacked. Months later, Hermione still had nightmares of Blaise Zabini, a cruel smile on her beautiful face as she directed her squadron to leave no quarter. The Alliance had taken Blaise prisoner, at the end. 

"How have you been?"

"Oh, fine," Hermione said, sitting down next to Ginny. Leaning close, she whispered, "I have a surprise to tell everyone tonight, but I figured I should tell you first." 

Ginny glanced at Hermione, a slight frown creasing her brow. "What is it?"

Hermione tried to keep from smiling, but it was impossible. "Well, Ron knows… but… I… I think I'm pregnant again. Isn't that amazing!" 

Ginny's jaw dropped, and she gave her sister-in-law a hug. 

"Hermione! That's wonderful. How long have you known?"

Shrugging, Hermione sent her a sly grin as they drew away. "A while. But I wanted to wait and tell everyone at once, and now is the perfect opportunity."

"Have you thought of any names yet?"

"I haven't thought that far ahead yet," Hermione confessed with a giggle.

"Oh right, like I believe that."

"Ron and I haven't decided on anything yet…"

"Just tell me what you would name it, if you could choose anything."

"Weeeell… at the moment, my favourite name is Jacqueline. But I'm sure Ron could find something to whine about… I can hear him now, 'You've already got one 'J' name, you don't need anotherrrr…'" 

"I like Jacqueline, it's pretty," Ginny said with a laugh. "And if Ron says that, you tell him to shut his horrid trap." As Hermione laughed, Ginny continued. "Any favourite boy's names?" 

"No… those are so much harder, have you ever noticed that?"

Ruefully, Ginny shook her head. "Never really thought about it." She sobered rapidly, a sad look on her face. "And the way things are going, I most likely never will."

-*-

Later that evening, after Hermione had left her to check on the baby and Ginny had unpacked her meagre belongings, she once again sat on her bed. Thank god I'm only going to be staying here a few days, Ginny thought. She cast a pessimistic glance about her room, trying to suppress unwitting memories of happier times. 

Was it a bad thing, she wondered, that a vast majority of happy memories from her life were shared with Harry? Was it a bad thing to have built your life so; around just one single person? 

Sighing, she thought about how long it had been since she'd gotten a letter. It wasn't his fault, of course, it wasn't as if he could just attach a letter to some random owl and send it to her. Just the same though… she wished Dumbledore would make visits a bit more frequently. Dumbledore had been granted – unknowingly – position of Trans-Atlantic letter carrier. When he had been about to embark on his first visit to see Harry, nearly a year and a half ago, Ginny had pressed a stack of nearly twenty letters into his hand, begging him to give them to Harry. When he had returned, it had been with a dozen and a half letters addressed to her. 

Ginny glanced out her window and saw that it had begun to rain. Unbidden, a memory streaked into her head and she lay down, pressing a hand to her temple as a scene – so long ago now, after her fifth year at Hogwarts -- began to unfold. 

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Lightning flashed, causing everything to glow with a greenish light. Ginny's sopping hair was plastered to her face and the back of her neck, but she didn't care. All she cared about was finding the snitch before Harry did. She could see him, just barely through the sheets of torrential rain, hovering near a tall pine tree, obviously scanning the area. 

Everyone else had long since gone inside, starting with Ron and Hermione at the first drizzle. Then the twins had decided they'd had enough, and finally Charlie had given up on his seeker position and relinquished it to her. 

Gold flashed past her left ear, and she was so startled she jumped slightly. There it was, no more than ten feet away. Right in front of her. Okay, Gin, think about this, she thought, all you have to do is play dumb. He hasn't seen it yet… just move slowly… it's practically yours for the taking. 

When she was hovering about five feet from it, she was shocked to see a flash of denim and red swoop down and snatch the snitch. Her mouth dropped open and she stared through the rain at Harry, as he grinned at her with an infuriatingly arrogant smile, holding the snitch above his head for the entire world to see. 

"What?" Ginny exclaimed. "I had that! How on earth did you see that thing?!"

Harry started to fly towards her slowly. She was disgusted with herself when his smile made her heart rate speed up. "Youngest seeker? One hundred years, I believe it was?" 

Oh, he was maddening. 

Maddeningly perfect, was more like it. "Rrrrgh," she enunciated, and began her graceful descent to the forest floor, trying her best to ignore him as he laughed and followed. 

They flew back to the house in silence, as close to the ground as possible, figuring that no sane Muggle would be outside in this weather, and if an insane Muggle saw them flying, it didn't really matter. They landed as close to the back door as they could, propping their brooms against the side of the house. Ginny wrung out her hair while Harry took off his glasses, squinting a little as he rubbed the fog off them on his T-shirt. 

"Good game Gin," he muttered, looking up at her. "You've gotten better since last summer." He grinned, but suddenly, he blushed and looked down at the ground. 

Confused, Ginny murmured, "Thanks…" Why was he so scared of her? She'd thought that she'd stopped acting like such a prat around him, but apparently she still made him uncomfortable. Dammit, she thought, I could hex myself. 

Sighing, she fiddled with the latch on the back door for a bit before it finally swung open, into the kitchen. She stumbled up the two steps and let the worst of the drips fall down onto the threadbare rug before continuing into the house, a few steps ahead of Harry. 

Her mother bustled into the room just as the two were about to leave it, saying, "I don't know what's wrong with the two of you… out there while it's pouring the rain, honestly, what were you thinking to not come inside?" Molly Weasley turned and smiled at Harry. "What would your relatives say if you caught your death while you were here?"

Grinning ruefully, Harry said, "I doubt they'd mind much."

"Of course they would, dear. Now go upstairs and get changed, you're dripping all over my clean floors. Go on!"

A few seconds later, they parted ways, when Ginny started for her bedroom door and Harry continued up the crooked stairs to Ron's room. Ginny smiled at Harry one last time before he disappeared out of sight. Trying the handle of her door and finding it locked, she frowned. She knocked softly and waited a few moments, finally putting her ear against the door. Hearing nothing, she murmured, "Alohomora," and the door sprung open. 

Hermione was lying on the spare pullout bed, mostly obscured from Ginny's vision. 

Obscured because Ron was lying on top of her, snogging her like there was no bloody tomorrow. 

Ginny slapped a hand over her mouth, willing herself to close the door silently. She would positively die of embarrassment if either Ron or Hermione noticed her, and she was quite certain that either of them would be horrified as well. As quickly and quietly as possible, she closed the door, praying that it wouldn't squeak on its hinges. When it was shut, thankfully with the bare minimum of squeaks, Ginny mumbled another locking charm on the door and was back on the stairs before she knew where she was going. 

When she was outside of Ron's door, she didn't even bother to knock before barging in with a loud, "Harry!"

Later, when she thought back on this moment, she was never sure if she was glad for it or horrifyingly embarrassed. 

In any event, she was greeted with the sight of a wet and shirtless Harry, who whirled and stared at her for a quick minute, before responding. "What is it? What's wrong?"

Dragging her eyes away from his lean torso and back up to his face, she began to feel stupid at her panic. "Well…"

"Well?"

"Alright." She began to talk very fast, her voice shrill and panicky. "I tried to open my door but it was locked so I knocked but no one answered and then I said alohomora and the door opened and oh my god…" she wailed. 

"Harry, did you know that Ron and Hermione were snogging?"

The worried look on his face slid into a slightly disgusted smile. "Well, yes. I try not to think about it, but once, last year, I couldn't find the two of them anywhere…"

"Where were they?" 

"Moaning Myrtle's bathroom, if you can believe it. You'd think that they wouldn't have been desperate enough for a snog to go do it in there…" 

Ginny shuddered, and walked across the room and sat down on Ron's bed. 

"I'm just glad that neither of them saw me…"

"Bloody hell… they were snogging so hard they didn't notice you?"

Ohh… put your shirt on please, Ginny thought as she nodded absently. I can't concentrate on anything until you put your shirt on… 

"Gin?"

Her cheeks flushed deeper than the Gryffindor Quidditch robes as she looked away, at the wall, at the floor, anywhere but him. She chanced a glance at his feet. Was it just her, she wondered dazedly, or did he seem closer to her than he had been before? Her hand flew up to her hair, and she tugged it out of its ponytail. It was starting to dry, and she finger combed it a bit spastically. 

"You need to get out of those wet clothes."

Her head snapped up, eyes wide. Harry's cheeks tinged with colour. "I… I didn't mean it like-"

Giving him a small smile, she said, "I know what you meant. I'll just grab one of Ron's shirts…" She started for the bureau, turning suddenly when something hit her in the back. Frowning slightly, she bent and picked up Harry's T-shirt. "You want me to wear yours?"

Harry shifted uncomfortably, no more than two feet in front of her. "Well… I just thought you might not… you don't have to if you don't want to."

"No," she muttered, avoiding his eyes. "I'd rather wear yours than a smelly old one of Ron's."

She stood up to go get changed in one of her other brother's rooms, but a hand on her elbow stopped her. "What is it Harry?" she asked breathlessly. 

He was looking down at her, his green eyes darkening. "I… never mind."

Ginny felt her heart sink with disappointment. As he moved to let her go, she grabbed his hand. "Wait."

She was so close… Do it Ginny, do it… he was leaning towards her, and she leaned towards him… She took a deep breath, slid her right hand around his neck, pulled his head down, and kissed him, just as lightning illuminated the room. 

Very dramatic, she thought fuzzily, as her mouth opened under his. 

-*-

The setting sun was rather spectacular. It bounced off all of the Weasleys' hair, making their heads seem to glow. Dinner had been a casual affair, with all the guests seated around the long set of assorted tables in the garden. Ginny sighed contentedly, looking at her brothers and the spattering of friends that had also been invited.

Ismene O'Connell, Ginny's best friend from school, stood next to Charlie by the fish pond. It was painfully apparent that she was flirting with him, and Ginny winced when she saw the bored look on Charlie's face. She resolved to go over and rescue him as soon as her American Great Aunt Hillary finished talking about the current state of affairs in Atlanta.

Of course… Charlie might have to suffer for a few more hours. Ginny tried to stifle a yawn, but Aunt Hillary saw. She stiffened noticeably and Ginny groaned inwardly. "Well, sweetie pie, I s'pose I'll let you go see your friends. I'll just go over and talk to your sweet mom." 

Ginny felt horrible about hurting her. Hillary was her aunt by marriage, and her uncle had died several years ago. It was always awkward seeing her. 

However… Ginny didn't feel quite so bad when she swept away, off to pester Molly about desperately needing a cup of coffee. Ginny smiled at Ismene and Charlie, and it widened when she saw the look on Charlie's face. 

"Gin, I was just telling Charlie about our new assignment at the hospital. Exciting, isn't it?" Ismene remarked with a brilliant smile in Charlie's direction. 

Ginny returned her smile, but without the extreme enthusiasm. 

"Yeah, it's great. Charlie, Bill said he needed help with something… are you guys planning a surprise for me?" she asked with a wink. 

Charlie sighed audibly with relief, and excused himself. 

Ismene cast a long glance at his backside before turning to her old friend. "He doesn't have a girlfriend, does he?"

Ginny laughed out loud. "Charlie? With a girlfriend? No way, Ismene."

"He just seemed a little preoccupied." 

"I'm sure he was." Ginny sent an amused glance at her friend. 

Ismene, with her long sheet of black hair and light blue eyes, was used to getting any member of the male sex she wanted. But, Ginny thought ruefully, she should have known better than to go after Charlie, who seemed to have packed away the flannel in exchange for a stained white T-shirt. Ismene, on the other hand, was wearing designer robes that had probably cost more than her brother's entire wardrobe. 

In short, Ismene was not Charlie's type. 

"Come take a walk with me," Ismene murmured, and when Ginny nodded her consent, she started for the trees. 

"We'll have to make it short, though. I think gifts are soon."

Ismene nodded absently and waited until they were surrounded by the forest before speaking. "I just wanted you to know-"

Ginny interrupted her. "I know. Don't worry, I know you didn't mean to hear the conversation between Dumbledore and I."

Ismene smiled at her. "Yes, but still. I just wanted you to know that you can trust me… with this secret."

Ginny smiled warmly. "Thank you Ismene. Even if it wasn't necessary." 

A call from the house brought her head up. "That's Ron. We'd better go."

"You go on, I'll be there in a moment."

Ginny looked uncertain, but at another insistent call from her brother, she walked towards the house, leaving Ismene to her solitude. 

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Author's Note again: I think I should appologize for the lack of Draco in this chapter. Don't worry, he's all through chapter two, which will be in the hands of the betas as soon as possible. I know this chapter was somewhat boring and tedious, but hopefully chapter two will be action packed enough to hold your attention.

I certainly got a lot of positive feedback on just that short prologue! I'm surprised. However, thank you so much to:

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Foreveranelf: Thank you! **Shinnonu**: I hope this chapter lives up to your expectations. Thanks for your compliments! **Dreamoft**: Stop it, you're making me blush. ;) I almost made you cry? I don't think I've ever had such a compliment! **Dukerbrown**: Thanks very much! **Zelle**: I've written you an email… thanks for the review! 

I was thinking about forming a mailing list… if you think that's a good idea, and would like to know when I update, leave your email address in your review, and I'll let you know when I update. 


	3. II

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Author's Note: Well, here ya go. Chapter two is by far my favorite chapter so far, due to the Draco-ness and the amount of action. Oh yes, I meant to include this last chapter: the pronounciation of Ismene's name. It's Is-May-Nee, and it's from Sophocles' Antigone. All right? 

Thanks, as always, to **Rea** and **Jess**. Enjoy!

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Chapter Two

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Give light, and the darkness will disappear of itself.  
--Erasmus

Although after the brief afternoon rainstorm the day had brightened and the sun had emerged, the night proved to be quite the opposite. By ten o'clock, the heavy clouds had opened, sending sheets of torrential rain down to Earth. It made seeing even nearby objects a challenge, which was quite an advantage, considering the task that needed to be fulfilled. Draco himself didn't mind the rain much, but one that accompanied him had some altogether different opinions of the weather. 

"Can't believe it'd choose to start rainin' now," a whining voice muttered. "We haven't had any rain in months – 'sides this afternoon – and now I'm sittin' out here on my arse in it."

His Irish accent barely evident, Draco's other companion replied, "Then stand up and get your arse out of it, you bloody idiot," his eyes constantly trained on the distant house light.

Draco could hear shuffling and muffled curses as Goyle struggled to lift his substantial bulk from the forest floor. 

Brian O'Rourke, the Irishman, murmured to Draco, "I wish I hadna said that. He probably wouldn't have noticed if we'd gotten the girl and left him here."

Draco smirked. "Provided we get the girl, of course. Where the hell is Ismene?" He sent an impatient glance at his watch, cupping his hand around the glow, just to be sure that no one could see it at the house. Not that you could really call it a house; 'shanty' would be more appropriate. 

"How late is she?" O'Rourke asked.

"Twenty minutes. She's probably flirting with one of those filthy Weasleys. They probably haven't bathed in months."

O'Rourke snickered. "Knowing her, you're probably right. But then again…" he sent a coy glance at Draco. "I'm surprised she's not out here putting the moves on you."

Goyle caught the tail end of the conversation and chuckled appreciatively while Draco rolled his eyes. 

"Twenty-five minutes," Draco grumbled a few moments later, rocking back and forth on his heels. He reached up and ran his hand through his sopping hair, pushing it back out of his eyes. 

"You went to school with this girl, right, Malfoy? You know her, don't you?"

"I don't _know_ her. My father tried to kill her once, I remember that."

O'Rourke raised his eyebrows. 

"I'll tell you about it later. Or, better yet, she could tell you about it. I'm sure she remembers it far more vividly than I do."

"What's her name?"

"Ginny Weasley." 

"She fit?"

"Ugh!" Draco sent him a disgusted look. "She's a _Weasley_. They've all got bright orange hair and freckles. And, if I recall right, she's about four feet tall. They're dirt poor. Completely destitute. She's so far below me – us… once you see her, you'll understand."

"I see."

There was movement by the house then, no more than a flash of colour against the night before it was gone.

-*-

After Ismene ran out the kitchen door into the downpour, it was a good half minute before Ginny reacted. She turned the events over in her mind, thinking rapidly. Ginny, Ron, and Hermione had been speaking of the war -- did anyone talk of anything else these days? -- and Ismene had suddenly jumped from her chair, yelling unintelligibly and her eyes flashing with anger. She'd wrenched her cloak off a hook on the wall and, with a final snarl, ran out into the rain.

"Did she… is she… what did I…" 

Hermione was frowning at Ginny. "Something's weird with that girl tonight. Why on Earth would she have run out like that? Ron, go get her."

Ron, who was sitting at the kitchen table eating the last bit of Ginny's birthday cake, choked. "I'm not going out in this rain. That girl may be crazy, but I'm not." 

When a distracted Ginny saw the murderous look on her friend's face, she said quickly, "No, no, I'll go get her. It was me who got her upset; who set her off. I'll go run and grab my cloak…"

Before Hermione could protest, Ginny ran up the stairs to her room as quickly as she could. She flung the cloak about her shoulders, pausing a split instant when she saw her wand at the other end of her room. She decided not to waste the extra three seconds grabbing it would require, and ran downstairs. 

"If I'm not back in ten minutes, send out a search party," Ginny muttered, grinning at Ron and Hermione and ignoring Hermione's last feeble protests as she slipped out the door. 

Standing underneath the overhang of the house, in the slight glow of the porch light, she gazed about the garden, searching for any trace of her friend. The rain was coming down so hard she could barely see the line of trees a hundred and fifty feet from the house. 

A distant scream sent Ginny running. 

It had come from the woods, slightly to her left. Years of running through the garden to the impromptu Quidditch pitch through the forest had so attuned her feet to the dwarf holes and tree roots in the ground that she barely stumbled. She cursed herself now for not grabbing her wand, thinking that she really must have been the stupidest person alive for thinking that light would not be needed. 

Another scream, straight ahead, sent Ginny running faster, as fast as she could. She reached the line of trees and went crashing through the bramble, screaming for Ismene, praying to hear an answering yell. She stopped short, no more than ten feet from the start of the trees and scanned the area, clutching a stitch at her side and panting from her sprint. "Ismene?" she called hesitantly, fear working its way up her spine. 

A twig snapped, and Ginny whirled around, her heart stopping when she saw Ismene struggling against a man who must have been double her size and triple her girth, a huge hand clapped over her mouth, the other holding a lit wand. Ginny started to run towards them, but she stopped suddenly when they both started shimmering, as if they were apparating, but that was impossible, two people couldn't apparate together… Could they? Shoving her mass of sopping hair out of her eyes, she stared in horrified fascination as Ismene stopped struggling, gazing about in disbelief. 

Then they were gone, and Ginny was left alone, staring for a second at the place where her best friend had just been standing. There was light suddenly, deeper in the woods, and Ginny started stumbling towards it, tripping over roots and foliage. She stopped short, after walking only a few paces. She needed to go home, get Ron and her wand. She was just about to turn around at a run when another light, a little to the left of the first, flashed on. Her mouth went dry, and she stood stock still, terrified. 

A man she had never seen before, handsome, his short brown hair spiky from the rain, stepped out from behind an ancient oak, and Ginny stared at him for a split second. Then she screamed, as loud and as long as she could, praying, even while she knew it was futile, that someone could hear her back at the house. Praying that Ron had come out to find her. The man was upon her then, his hand over her mouth in a similar fashion that the giant had held Ismene. 

Ginny struggled against him, kicking and biting, but she was small and he was a man grown, tall and battle trained. In a last, desperate stand, she stood still for a moment, causing him to relax – only slightly. She bit against his hand, sinking her front teeth deep into the skin. He let go with a cry of pain, and she whirled, kicking him in the shin with all the strength she could muster. The man grabbed his leg, looking ridiculous as he hopped on one foot, groaning in agony. 

She didn't wait to watch anything else. She took off as fast as she could, praying that she was going in the direction of the house. Her heavy robes caught on a tree, and she wasted precious seconds trying to rip them away from the scraggly bark. With a mighty pull, it tore too quickly, and she went flying into the mud on the forest floor. Raising her head from the ground, shaking the worst of the muck off her, she listened, trying to hear her captor. Ginny could hear someone coming after her, crashing through the undergrowth. Her heart stopped again, and she closed her eyes for a moment, trying to think with her head and not her feet for once. She backed up against the tree she'd been caught on, pulling her knees up to her chest. She couldn't do this. Her mouth was dry and her heart was pounding, and for an instant, she seemed to be separated from her body, watching the wand light flash off of wet leaves and individual raindrops. With a gulp of air, she realized where she was – nearly directly in front of the house, barely fifteen feet from the line of the trees. She could just make out the porch light by the back door. She stood, leaning against the rough bark, praying that she could make it at least near enough for Ron and Hermione to hear her. Light flashed on the other side of her tree, and her heart dropped into her stomach. 

Without stopping to think, she pushed off the tree and ran. She heard a shout from behind her and ran faster. The rain was blinding, the wind was whistling in her ears, and her screams echoed through the garden. She was barely fifty feet from the door when she heard a furious roar, "Stupefy!" Her limbs started stiffening, and she let out a frantic scream as her legs gave out from under her and she collapsed, a stone's throw away from her back door.

Ginny felt she must have lain there for hours, gazing at her home, tears of defeat beginning to form and mixing with the rain. In reality it was only about eight seconds, and she wondered if her captor was a slow sprinter. If he wasn't, he must have aimed that curse from by the tree line… a good one hundred feet away from her. That was remarkable, even her brother Charlie couldn't throw curses so well, particularly in the dark and the rain. 

A dark figure loomed above her and hoisted her up. He wore long, heavy robes, and the hood was up. Ginny couldn't tell whether he was young or old, and she was unsure whether he was even male until she was pressed against him, her body frozen with her hands snapped to her sides, her legs forced together. She could feel the hard planes of his body, even through the layers of clothing. Ginny could hear him whispering, muttering a spell. 

Suddenly, the back door of the house slammed open, and she could see a tall figure. Had she been able to, she would have cried out in delight at the sight of her brother. He let out a yell, and Ginny's captor looked up. Ginny watched Ron's expression transform – first shock, then recognition, and then anger. The man who held her muttered faster, and Ginny could feel the first nauseating effects of apparition take hold on her. Ron was almost there… his wand was out, and he was yelling, and Ginny wondered why he didn't curse the man, until she realized that she was in front of him, protecting her captor with her body. 

The world around her began to shift, starting to be replaced in pieces by another place. She felt dizzy, horrified, trying to communicate with her brother in the split second she had to look at him. 

Suddenly, her feet seemed to leave the ground for a split second, and then she was back on the ground, her eyes rolling about in her head, trying to take in everything. 

They were in a clearing in the woods, no more than a mile from her house. She'd played Quidditch there as a girl. There was no sign of Ismene, but the brown haired man from before – the one she'd kicked – stood there, watching them silently. Her captor let her go, and she fell, the effects of the stunning spell making her unable to support herself. A sharp rock jabbed into her back and rain began to run into her mouth and eyes. The two men stood a few feet from her, talking in quiet tones she couldn't hear over the pounding rain. 

-*-

O'Rourke grabbed Draco's arm roughly, muttering in a fierce undertone, "Ismene just remembered to mention something rather important to me a few moments ago."

When Draco didn't reply, O'Rourke sighed and continued. "The girl can't apparate. She's tried to take the test four times… she splinched herself the first time around, and was too frightened to try again on the other three tries."

"What!" Draco exploded. "How could-"

"Shut up! You're yelling. Don't blow Ismene's cover!"

"That's not important right now. I've been standing here for five minutes, trying to think of something, and I've come up with nothing. What do you think we should do?"

"Merlin… her brother saw me, he knows what he's doing…"

"He can track us, then?"

"He probably already has his scanners out. Double apparation isn't that hard to track. He was halfway done with his auror training when he left to join the war effort."

"Oh shit," O'Rourke breathed. "You wanna apparate-"

"Yeah. Let's say 3000 meters directly north of here. Try not to come down on a tree if you can help it. When we get there, apparate back to the castle, and grab two of the fastest brooms you can find and get back here as fast as you can."

"All right… are you sure you don't want me to grab three brooms and go with you?"

Draco rubbed his tired eyes and pushed his hair out of his eyes. "No, you have to put blocks up when you go back. We can't have Weasley following us back to…"

"I understand."

"Yeah. Report to my… I mean, the general and notify him of the change of plans. I hope…" Draco paused. "I imagine we'll be there in the space of five days. If it's more than that, send a squadron out to search, but don't risk sending them outside Wales. Send an elite group if you have to go into England." 

"You think it'll take you that long?"

"I don't want to risk flying over the Bristol Channel with her. It gets damn foggy and cold at night over there. I'll go around, through Bath."

"All right. Let's get going then."

Draco nodded and started for the Weasley girl. "Start a few seconds after me so we arrive at about the same time." 

He picked her up, surprised again at how light even her dead weight was, and began muttering the complicated double apparition spell. His breath hitched when his feet seemed to leave the ground without really doing so. Draco struggled to keep his feet, having landed on a huge knotted tree root. He stepped onto solid ground and listened intently for O'Rourke. Draco heard a faint crashing noise from his left, along with a muffled curse. He started in that direction, and saw O'Rourke's outline removing leaves from his hair. When he sensed Draco watching him, he straightened and immediately apparated. 

"Lumos," Draco muttered, shoving his wet mop of hair out his eyes for what seemed the thousandth time that night. He glanced at the Weasley girl, who he'd unceremoniously propped against a tree, and shone his wand light on her. He was startled when her eyes widened in astonishment. He smirked.

"Yeah, Weasley, it's me. Haven't seen you around much lately. Where've you been hiding?"

The hatred in her eyes was palpable. 

Draco laughed appreciatively and turned to wait. 

After a few moments, there was a loud crashing sound behind him and he whirled, his wand held out in a defensive stance. He sighed audibly when he realized it was O'Rourke. 

"I could only find one…," he muttered apologetically, holding out the broom. 

"All right, fine. Maybe it's better this way anyway." 

"I'll see you around, Draco." He disapparated again. 

Draco turned to Weasley. "Well, we've got a bit of a ride to take. Are you going to get straight on the broom?" He looked at her, her eyes flashing dangerously. "I better not chance it." And then he said two spells so quickly she had no time to respond, "_Finite Incantem. Silencium_."

-*-

Ginny straightened up, rolling her shoulders uncomfortably. She didn't bother opening her mouth to speak. She knew she wouldn't be able to. 

He had his wand pointed directly at her heart. "Get on the broom, Weasley."

Ginny's heart began pounding. He's bluffing with that wand, she tried to convince herself. They wouldn't bother kidnapping me only to kill me. They'll never find Harry if I die. 

Malfoy glared at her, and said again, "_Get on the broom_." She shuddered at his tone and obeyed him. 

I should let him kill me, she thought. 

He climbed on in front of her and kicked off. He angled the broom so sharply upwards that Ginny gasped and clung to his waist – but only for a moment. She felt him tense and let go as if she'd been burned, gripping the broom handle for support instead. 

The rain was coming down so hard it felt like needles driving into her face, and she let go with one hand to try and pull her hood up. She huddled behind Malfoy, trying not to think of how very miserable she was. 

The higher they went, the colder it got. Even if I was stupid enough to not grab my wand, Ginny thought ruefully, at least I grabbed my cloak. Unfortunately, the waterproofing spell appeared to be wearing off. 

She shivered violently then. 

Malfoy looked at her over his shoulder, but said nothing. Ginny fixed her meanest glare on him and resolved to never shiver again in his presence. 

Ginny didn't know how long they flew in the darkness. It must have been hours, and she realized that she hadn't slept in nearly a day. She was exhausted. Try as she might, she simply couldn't keep her head from falling to her chest or her eyelids from drooping. She'd become used to the rain by then, the sound of it hitting her and Malfoy's cloaks helped put her to sleep. Her head fell forward, her nose pressing into his back, and Draco knew without turning around that she'd fallen asleep. He muttered a quick charm to keep her on the broom. 

He sighed and glanced at his watch. It read half past four, which meant the sun would be coming up all too soon for his liking. They had to be on the ground and well hidden before first light. The rain had reduced to a meagre drizzle, and as he began his descent, it began to taper off to nothing. Of course, he thought sarcastically. Why wouldn't it stop right as we bloody well get off the broom? 

Draco could see city lights to the north. It was probably Bristol or Bath, but he didn't really care to find out. He needed to stay as far away from all human habitats as much as possible – damn Ron Weasley for seeing his face, he'd probably alerted the Ministry immediately. He began scanning the dark woods below him, looking for a suitable landing place. After a few minutes, he spotted one and headed in that direction. 

Her nose pressed harder into his back as they began to descend. He heard her gasp and felt her stiffen. Draco grimaced when he realized she was awake. She jerked away from him, moving back on the broom as far as she could. 

Once they had landed and he'd gotten off the broom, he smirked when she tried to swing her leg over the side and found she couldn't. 

"Finite Incantem," he muttered lazily. 

Once she was off the broom, Weasley immediately began to yell. "WHAT THE HELL DO YOU MEAN BY THIS, ABDUCTING ME IN THE MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT! WHERE DID THAT OAF TAKE ISMENE? BLOODY HELL, I'LL KILL YOU FOR THIS MALFOY, I SWEAR I WILL!"

She rambled into incoherence then and Draco deliberately turned his back on her. He peered about the dripping wet forest, shining his wand light, looking for a place that could have at least a small amount of dry wood. He saw a large rock and went to look around it. There was a small amount under an overhanging part of the stone, but not much else. 

Weasley stopped screaming then. "What the devil are you doing?"

"Looking for firewood. Care to join me?"

"Why are you doing that?"

"Because, Weasley, I need to make a fire."

He knew she was looking at him as if he had a screw loose. 

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but aren't you the one with the wand?"

He turned around and glared at her. Her hair was beginning to dry and the scraggly ends were starting to form frizzy curls. She was covered in mud, down her front, all over her face, in her hair. Her robes were torn in places, and her face was covered in scratches. 

"Weasley," he said mock appreciatively. "Why don't I remember you being this beautiful when we were in school together?"

"Fuck off, Malfoy. In case you don't recall… the only reason I look so 'lovely' is because you decided last night would be a good time to abduct an innocent witch!"

He'd walked closer while she'd been speaking and now stood no more than five feet from her. "Watch your mouth, Weasley," he said in a low, dangerous voice. "And I think we both know full well you're anything but innocent."

Ginny repressed a shiver and turned her back on him. "I have no idea what you're talking about," she muttered as she stalked away from him. 

"I think you do." 

"Oh this is rich, Malfoy. I'm a healer at St. Mungo's. I barely help with the war effort. If you did this because you think I'll tell you something about my brothers, forget it. They don't tell me anything anyway!"

He said nothing for a long moment. "Perhaps not your brothers. Instead… your boyfriend, Potter? Where is he, then?"

He would have thought he had just dumped a bucket of ice water over her head, for all she jumped. "I… I have no idea what you're talking about. Harry's dead. He's been dead for a year and a half."

"Really."

Ginny nodded. 

"Why then, was his body never found? Who killed him? Why," his voice dropped, "can my master still feel his presence on this Earth? I don't think you're telling the truth, Weasley."

"Well it's true, you bastard!"

"Weasley, as you so kindly reminded me a few moments ago, I am the one with the wand. I recommend that you treat me with a bit of respect, or else…"

"Or else what?" She demanded. 

Malfoy looked at her intently. Finally, he shook his head. "You don't want to know."

"Yes, I do."

He shrugged. "The dark lord has recently discovered the joys of Muggle torture, with his own personal touch, of course. It seems fitting that only their torture chambers are of any interest to him."

Ginny knew nothing about Muggle torture. Surely it couldn't be worse than the Cruciatus curse? Though it didn't matter. No force on Earth could make her betray Harry's location. Even so, a chill travelled down her spine as he stared at her. 

She attempted a casual shrug. "I can cope with torture."

He laughed; a cold, bitter laugh. "Right," he replied dryly. "Go look for some firewood, and don't bother running away. You're kind of… stuck near me, so to speak…" He laughed again. 

"Why are you bothering to build a fire when you have your wand-?"

"That's none of your concern," he snapped. "Go."

Weasley shot him a look that would have killed a lesser man. "How am I going to see, then? It's still dark, you realize."

He turned, shrugging. Now what the hell was he supposed to do? He couldn't use magic, the Ministry and the Muggle Prime Minister had his wand's signature on their respective databases. If he used any big magic, like transfiguration or apparation, Ministry officials would have his location in a second. 

Draco sat down, his back against a tree and waited for Weasley to return. He heard her let out a yelp once, and assumed she'd reached the barrier he'd erected. After going thirty feet from his side, she would hit an invisible wall, unable to step any further. 

The sun began to come up and Draco peered into the trees. They needed to be hidden by the time it was full light. He still wasn't entirely sure how they were going to manage that, but he had an invisibility cloak in his pack, and figured that if worst came to worst, they could crawl under it and go to sleep. 

Though the thought of being in such close proximity with a Weasley for a prolonged period of time made him shudder. 

"Weasley?" he called into the woods. "Weasley, where the bloody hell did you go?" 

There was no answer.

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A/N: If you're confused, you probably have a right to be. If you have any questions, of course, feel free to email me, but know that most of them -- at least the ones that are plot related -- will be resolved in time. If you'd like to be on my mailing list, please let me know. Question -- should I bother starting a Yahoo!Group for this story? Do you think anyone would join? If you'd be interested, drop me a line! :o)

Thank you to: 

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Crystal: I love D/G too. :) Thus why I'm writing a D/G story. I'm so brilliant. **Sunshine*girl Hermione:** Thanks for all the compliments. I intend to keep writing! **Megan**: Well, here's a bit of Draco for you. Nasty git, isn't he? **Ginny Malfoy**: Wow, that's a great review! Especially because I am (god knows) in no way a H/G shipper. I'm thrilled that you like it. **Zelle**: You know what I think of you. Crazy girl. Thanks though! **Dragongurl**: Here he is! I hope you still like it. **Shinnonu**: Good guess. ;) And he definitely is a bitch to write in character. Damn. But I do love him. *hugs Draco* **Scarlett**: I hope that I can keep you guessing throughout the entire thing. Thanks for reading!! **Americangirl**: Thank you! **Hallee87**: Thanks for reviewing! **Icedpeaches**: Here he is! I hope you like him. He gets better, trust me. And I've just added you to the mailing list. swaummyjs06: Thanks for the compliments and advice! **Nmffnurse**: Merci beaucoup. I've just added you! **Blackmage**: Soon enough? ;) **Kranestad**: Just what an author wants to hear! I'm glad to hear you liked it. 

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	4. III

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Disclaimer: I do realize that this has been missing from my last chapters, see prologue if you have any questions. It's always the same. Always. 

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Author's Note: Well, I know there truly is no excuse for my laziness. Over the summer, I had eight trillion and one family obligations, and then school… And then poor Jess had computer trouble, and things just escalated. In short, I apologize a thousand times over for the huge time span between the last chapter and this one. I'm nearly halfway done with chapter four, so hopefully it won't be any more than a month until you see that one. And finally, **Rea** and **Jess** (who I will murder if she thinks for one second I want her gone) are my saviors. 

Chapter Three 

__

Was it worth it when it was over

Proving yourself right?

--Dashboard Confessional

Ginny could hear him calling her name and smiled to herself. What an idiot, she thought. Get some firewood, my arse. 

She peered through the leaves, straining to see him in the dim light. Ginny could see him looking under fallen trees and through low-lying bushes. She leaned back against the damp tree trunk and hitched her robes up into her lap, making sure she couldn't be seen from the ground. 

She knew perfectly well why he hadn't wanted her to use any magic, besides him not wanting her to have his wand. She remembered when Harry had been forced to go to the Ministry of Magic hearing for conjuring a Patronus -- even though that Patronus had saved his and his cousin's lives -- before her fourth year. Ginny had a feeling that Malfoy would not get off quite as easily as Harry had, being wanted for several charges of murder. At least she _assumed_ he was wanted for murder. Or even if he wasn't wanted, he certainly had performed more than enough illegal curses to lock him in Azkaban for about a hundred lifetimes. She guessed. 

His voice broke through the stillness again. "Bloody hell, Weasley. Don't you realize that this is only going to make things worse for you?" He paused, and Ginny wondered what he was on about. 

"Torture, Weasley," he sneered, reading her mind. Oh hell, she thought, not that again. 

"Remember? We _were_ just discussing it…" He paused. "Weasley," he said suddenly, "I don't think you realize the magnitude of what I'm saying."

Ginny could see his blond head getting worryingly close to her tree. The just-risen sun glinted off his hair, and she noticed that it seemed more blond than silver now… it had probably darkened as he'd gotten older, she realized. 

She began to wonder what she'd hoped to accomplish by hiding from him as she watched him trek through the forest, coming to a stop directly under her tree. Just a small step to the right and a slight tilt of his head and he'd have a clear view of her. He was going to find her eventually, and she had a feeling that it would have been better if she had just tried to find some firewood and left it at that. 

It was another one of those situations, she thought, like not grabbing her wand last night. Like not letting Ron help her look for Ismene. That was her, Ginny Weasley, always thinking with her feet. 

It was as if she didn't possess a brain. 

Malfoy began to speak again. "You know, I wonder what your precious Potter would think if you were returned to him, missing a finger or two… or three… pregnant with some Death Eater's bastard," he trailed off, letting the enormity of his words sink in. 

And sink in they did. She felt her blood run cold and her breath hitched. There was no doubt in Ginny's mind that Harry would love her even if she returned without _any_ fingers or a nose or ears or arms… he'd love her if she was missing _all_ her limbs, she knew that. 

But with another man's child?

The thought that she would return with another's child had never occurred to her. All of Malfoy's talk of torture had brought only Cruciatus and knives to her mind. 

  
Never had she imagined… never thought that _forced sexual relations_ with some horrible Death Eater were something she'd have to worry about. That was the worst thing she could imagine, truly, and then being forced to bear a child… 

A _Death Eater's_ child? She _knew_ Harry would still love her, but a child, a child that would be as much hers as the Death Eater's? Could she ask him to love… it?

She was about to climb down from her perch, when Malfoy's voice halted her. "Of course, that's assuming Potter would be alive when you are returned… which he won't be, because you're going to tell us where he is. But on the off chance…"

A fresh wave of hatred coursed through her. That Malfoy could talk like that; talk of killing Harry like it was absolutely nothing… 

She slid out of her tree and stared at him. "No."

He raised his eyebrows, appearing utterly unsurprised to see her. "No?"

"No. Harry won't be dead because I'm not going to tell you where he is."

"I think you-"

"No, Malfoy. There was a reason I was chosen for this job, and I don't intend to let either Harry or Dumbledore down."

"Weasley, I still don't think that you grasp-"

"I know perfectly well what you're on about!" she snapped, interrupting him again. "Torture! It can't be all that much worse than listening to you blabber on about it. And even if Harry doesn't love me anymore… at least he'll be alive. Nothing else matters. It doesn't matter if you or I live or die, ultimately, it will be Harry against Voldemort, and Harry will win."

His face contorted nastily. "Pretty words, Weasley. What makes you so sure?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes, looking directly at him. "I know Harry. And I… knew… Tom Riddle. I knew his strengths, and I knew his weaknesses. And because Tom Riddle didn't succeed in killing me, Harry knows them as well."

"And you think, because of that, Potter can beat the greatest wizard of all time?"

"I'm sure you Death Eaters grow tired of hearing this, but Voldemort does not hold that title. That title is in the sole possession of Albus Dumbledore, and your _master_," she sneered mockingly, "is well aware of that."

Malfoy's eyes flashed dangerously. "Careful, Weasley. Talking like that is a good way to get yourself killed."

"Then why don't you do it? Kill me now, put me out of the misery of your company. I assure you, I'd appreciate it very much!"

His upper lip curled in disgust. He reached into the bag that had been tied to the broomstick and withdrew an oddly shaped package. He thrust it at her, and when she took it, surprised, he growled, "Unfortunately, I don't have a choice. Go to sleep. I'll wake you when it's time to leave again."

He abruptly turned his back on her and pulled something shimmery out of his pack. As Ginny stared, he fixed a final glare at her, and pulled the invisibility cloak about his shoulders and over his head, disappearing quite completely. She had seen Harry, Ron, and Hermione do that often enough to not be startled. 

Ginny sighed and looked down at the oddly shaped bundle. Opening it, she discovered it was another invisibility cloak, admittedly smaller and of lower quality than Harry's and the one Malfoy had just put on, but a valuable object nonetheless. She frowned in consternation, and looked back up at where Malfoy had been standing. Suddenly, his head reappeared, appearing to float in midair. 

"Weasley, I can see from the look of incomprehension on your face that you're confused. _Cover_ yourself with it."

She'd just started to narrow her eyes in a look of intense dislike when he disappeared again. She sighed again and lay down, pulling the cloak up like a blanket over her head. 

-*-

When a ray of sunlight across her eyes woke Ginny perhaps six hours later, Malfoy was seated a few feet away, his back against a tree trunk and his feet flat on the ground, his knees bent, turning something shiny over and over in his hands. He appeared deep in thought and the sharp lines of his face seemed softened somehow, with his face cast in shadow and his too-long hair in his eyes. 

Ginny stared at him for a moment, taking advantage of his being unaware of her scrutiny. He still looked so much like the boy he'd been at Hogwarts; cruel and immature, relying on his father to get him out of trouble. There were differences, of course; one could only expect them after an entire adulthood of war and fighting. 

Lines creased his forehead as a result of too much frowning, lines that shouldn't have been present on someone his age. A thin scar slanted across his right cheekbone, ending near his hairline. His hair was longer than she remembered it ever being in school. It looked like it had been cut fashionably some time ago and then let to grow however it wanted, long in some places and short in others. It also appeared he hadn't shaved in several days; pale blond stubble had grown into the beginnings of a beard and moustache. 

He looked up and saw her staring at him. His eyes flashed with dislike as he shoved the shiny object he was holding into his pack and sneered, "Awake, are you?"

Ginny sat up slowly, stretching out stiff muscles and frowned slightly, ignoring his waspishness and wondering what the object had been. "Obviously," she muttered, sounding bored. "I don't know why you're complaining, you told me you'd wake me when it was time to leave."

Draco started to open his mouth to reply when he realized there really wasn't much of a response to give. He opted for a fierce glare instead. 

Weasley's stomach growled so loudly that he could hear it distinctly from his spot under the tree. His mind immediately filled with thoughts of poor etiquette, though they ended quickly. He'd been hungry himself often enough in the past few years of his life to know that there wasn't much one could do for an empty belly. 

Draco was surprised to see a pale pink blush appear quickly on her freckled cheeks, though it disappeared so quickly he might have imagined it. "If you're hungry, my suggestion that you get some firewood is still valid. I seem to recall you returning with that task unfulfilled."

This time a flush definitely spotted her cheeks, but it was from anger instead of embarrassment. "_Suggested_? Bloody commanded's more like it! If you want firewood, go get it your ruddy self." With that, she abruptly turned her back on him and lay back down, obviously thinking of going back to sleep. 

He scowled at her back for a moment before standing up. He shoved his cloak into his pack and grabbed his wand – not that he could use it, of course, but it was far better for _him_ to have it than _her_. He stomped into the woods, smirking a bit when he got farther than twenty feet from her and heard her yell. 

Draco looked about the woods, mostly dry now, and set about gathering some of the smaller pieces of wood that would better serve as kindling for the flame than actually starting a fire. It was a relatively young forest and as a result, large branches on the ground were nearly impossible to find. He was about to give up and tell Weasley that she'd be _sans_ any food save for some slightly stale pumpkin bread until they got past Abergavenny Castle and he was safe to use his wand when he saw the perfect tree. It was a dead oak, probably killed by some disease, huge and stretching high into the sky. It looked ridiculously out of place in such an animate place, surrounded in all directions by young trees decorated with lush green leaves, while it's own branches hung bare of any leaves to claim as its own. There were several sturdy looking trees around it, Draco figured he could climb one of those and cut some of the dead branches off from the top. 

He was doing – or attempting – just that with the small knife that he'd reluctantly carried with him in case of an emergency. He hadn't had this kind of emergency in mind when he'd packed it, however, he thought wryly. He could think of a great deal many things he'd rather be doing than camping out in the woods with a Weasley, and he thought wistfully of Blaise. They'd get her out of Azkaban soon, he thought. She was –

He was in the middle of that thought when the dead branch – it had looked plenty sturdy when he'd braced his body weight on it, dammit – he was holding onto with his right hand snapped off the tree. Later, he didn't remember the actual falling part, as he hadn't been more than eight feet off the ground, but he could certainly remember the loud _crack_ that had resounded through the still woods when he landed on his left arm – his lead arm. 

Draco lay in the dirt for a few moments before chancing a glance down at it. He knew what he'd see before he looked, but that didn't stop the enormous sinking feeling when he saw his arm twisted at a nauseating angle, making his stomach drop with dread. Coincidentally, that was when the shock wore off and the first flickers of white-hot agony began to travel up his forearm to well near his shoulder. He groaned softly, trying not to think of the next few days. 

His father's voice rang in his head: Never let an enemy see your weakness. Draco knew a few healing spells, but there was no way he could perform any of them now. He knew next to nothing about the Muggle way of healing, and even if he had, he doubted if he'd be able to set his very much lead left arm with his very clumsy right hand. 

Draco slowly began to stand up, wincing when his arm jarred even slightly. He tried to brush off the worst of the dirt and leaves with his good hand, just to make sure Weasley wouldn't know anything was amiss. 

Fat chance, he thought. The brat would probably try to steal his wand. 

-*-

Ginny heard the crashing sound; after all, she was just over fifteen feet away after having been dragged through the forest for a while. She glanced up curiously, wondering what Malfoy had managed to do to himself. She waited a few moments, peering through the trees for a glimpse of him. Finally, just as she was beginning to debate going to look for him – perhaps he was unconscious and she could take his wand? – he crashed through the bramble, sweat making his hair stick to his forehead. 

She wondered on that for a moment, as it wasn't _that_ hot, surely he hadn't been exercising hard enough to produce such a sweat?

Suddenly, as if she'd been hit by a bludger, she realized what was wrong. He was in pain, excruciating pain. She had seen a great many people hurt before, and he was showing all the symptoms: pale, drawn face and clenched teeth. Her eyes travelled down his body in an utterly professional manner, looking for the site of injury. She saw his arms looking almost as if they were crossed, but the right arm providing more support than it should have been – he was using it almost as a makeshift sling, she supposed. It was such a slight thing that had she not had much experience with such injuries, she probably wouldn't have noticed it. It was the same move her brother had made both times he'd broken his arm in Quidditch, not wanting anyone to know just how badly he'd been hurt. 

Ginny almost opened her mouth to ask if he was all right when he beat her to it, snapping excessively harshly, "Let's go. I've got to get to Abergavenny Castle by sundown."

Her haunches rose, and any semblance of pity she'd felt for him disappeared. "How are we going to get past the Muggles in broad daylight, then?"

His eyes narrowed as he focused on her face. "The broom is _charmed_, Weasley. Anyone who sits on it is Disillusioned. If you don't know what that is, it's when--"

"I know what a Disillusionment charm is!" she snapped, turning her back on him.

He watched her walk away, thinking of one of her earlier statements: _I'm a healer at St. Mungo's… _He grimaced and cradled his useless arm closer to his chest, and followed her to the broom. 

*-*

"It's bloody going to rain," Weasley muttered after they landed at dusk on the third day, drawing her cloak tighter around her. She cast a sidelong glance at Draco.

He pretended not to notice and didn't reply. 

He'd known that he was getting sick for the past two days but he'd pretended not to notice. He _had_ noticed all the covert glances that Weasley'd been shooting at him, as if she'd been waiting for him to fall over twitching. 

Truth be told, he wasn't sure how far away from falling over dead he was. His arm was festering, of that he was sure. He'd tried to brace it the night after he'd broken it once Weasley was asleep, but he'd had no idea how to set it. Eventually, he'd just ripped up one of his shirts and wrapped his shoulder with it. He was sure that that hadn't done a stitch of good, but what else could he do?

Then, yesterday morning, he'd felt the fever begin to arrive. It had been subtle at first, the occasional sniffle and an achy feeling in his body. By noon, his body had begun alternating between hot and cold, shivering one moment and sweating the next. He was positive Weasley had noticed that, he'd seen her look at him strangely when they'd stopped that night. 

By this morning, he'd barely been able to stand up. His entire body ached abominably, his head pounded like nothing he'd ever felt before, he coughed and sneezed constantly, and not to mention his bloody arm, which seemed to hurt more each second. 

He was in bad shape, and falling over twitching didn't really seem like that bad an option right now. 

Draco landed the broom bumpily, jarring his arm hard enough to make him moan. He winced when he felt Weasley stiffen behind him. He hurried off the broom, digging around in his pack the second his feet touched the ground. Weasley slid off the broom after him, her eyes narrowing, a nonplussed expression on her face. "Malfoy, I--"

"What?" he snapped, thrusting some old pumpkin bread at her and the spare invisibility cloak. He pulled his own out, wrapped himself in it (no easy task with only one hand), and lay down, not even bothering to put another blanket down. He drew his heavy travelling robes tighter about him, shivering. 

He was very nearly asleep when something wet hit his nose. He pushed off the invisibility cloak and opened his eyes wearily, knowing exactly what he'd see. 

It was raining again. 

Draco pulled his hood up one handed and tried not to groan. His last thought before he fell asleep was, At least I know I'm in Wales…

*-*

Ginny woke with a start a few hours later, turning her head this way and that, trying to hear what woke her. It didn't take long. Dark as it was, she could hear Malfoy thrashing about a few feet away from her, and then she heard him cry out. 

She crawled towards his inept form, oblivious to the mud she attracted in doing so by now, after three days of sleeping in the woods. "Malfoy," she hissed, tentatively reaching for the place she supposed his shoulder would be. She felt the hard plane of his chest and snatched her hand away as if she'd been burned. Slowly, she reached down again, finding his left shoulder this time. She shook him a little, and he moaned in what sounded like pain. Her mind raced until she realized that it had been his left arm he'd been favoring for the past few days. What on earth was she to do? She was positive he was delirious after a few moments of vigorously shaking his other shoulder and hearing only jumbled sentences. 

An idea struck her at that moment. She could find his wand and use it to get away! She could take the broom and fly away, back home, safe and sound… 

Then her heart sank. She had no idea where she was. If she'd known that she was on friendly land, she would have used it in a second – aurors probably would have been able to apparate here within a few minutes. But… if she was in Death Eater territory… oh god. What on Earth would she do? She supposed they had Malfoy's wand's signature somewhere… Was it possible to determine individual spells that way? 

Another moan from Malfoy made her look down. She began feeling in his robes, looking for the wand. A simple lighting spell, while enough to attract aurors, certainly wouldn't be enough to send Death Eaters out looking for them, would it? She smiled triumphantly as she felt the smooth wood between her fingers and was pulling it from his pocket when her wrist was caught in a death grip. 

Ginny gasped and tried to see Malfoy's face through the darkness. He said, clearly, "Blaise, don't even try it. I'm hardly in the mood for one of your games tonight." Then his grip loosened, and finally his hand dropped onto his chest. She sighed in relief, extracting his wand all the way. "_Lumos_," she murmured, wondering when green sparks shot out the end, but nothing else happened. 

Then it clicked: wands adapted to their user's preference, their lead hand and the imprints of their fingers. Malfoy's wand was much thicker than her own and it felt strange in her small hand. She remembered suddenly that Malfoy was left handed, and she gulped nervously. Slowly, she switched hands and attempted the spell again, trying hard to get the move correct backwards. Finally, the light flashed on and she began her inspecting. 

The rain had slackened off from when they'd gone to sleep, but it hadn't stopped completely. She raised the wand, looking at him. Malfoy's hair and face were completely drenched, though his cloak seemed to have a better waterproofing spell on it than her own, as his body seemed dry still. 

Ginny stood up then, knowing that if she was going to leave, she needed to do it immediately. She was halfway across the clearing, picking up the broom, when she realized that she needed to figure out how to undo the jailing spell. "Erm… _finite incantem_?" She whispered slowly. The wand light immediately distinguished, leaving her in blackness again, but she started it again and slowly started walking away. 

She'd walked a good thirty feet into the woods when she realized that it was done. She was free to go. She walked purposefully back into the clearing, mounted the broom and was about to push off when another agonized moan made her hesitate. Ginny stood, feet straddling the broom, for a long moment, contemplating. 

You at least need to find out what's wrong, her conscience whispered. She closed her eyes in frustration, knowing that if she looked she was bound to help him. She'd taken the Healing Oath, after all, and, as much as she was loathe to admit it, her morals wouldn't have allowed her to leave him.

"Oh bloody fucking hell," she growled, slamming the broom back onto the ground with definitely more force than was necessary, and walked back over to Malfoy. "I can't ruddy believe this."

Ginny lay a hand on what should have been a forehead cooled by the rain, and closed her eyes wearily when she felt the heat radiating off of it. Don't do it, she thought over and over again, even as she began unfastening his robes. 

She headed for his left arm first, as she'd seen him cradling it to his chest more than a few times these past days. The rain started to pick up, and she realized there was no help for it. She conjured a makeshift tent around them and one of Hermione's famous bluebell flames, for both heat and light. 

When she got down to his plain white T-shirt, the only thing she could see was a forearm that was a tad too skinny, lightly dusted with pale hair, but there didn't appear to be anything wrong. It had looked like he'd been favouring his lower arm, but that obviously wasn't the case… 

She sat back on her heels, thinking about the amount of pain Malfoy'd obviously been in, and of the fever. She had a hunch about what must have happened, and, leaning forward again, she slowly cut off his T-shirt, sucking in her breath at the extent of the damage. 

There was a deep puckered scar on the back of his shoulder, but that wasn't what caused her stomach to drop. The worst part was the shoulder joint itself; a hump rising on the outside and the arm hanging at a sickening angle. 

The hump was a joint out of place, of course. She could heal it with magic in just a few moments with her own wand, but the spell was complicated and she wasn't entirely sure she could manage it with someone else's wand… Not to mention that Malfoy's arm had festered for two days with no tending. Ginny didn't know of any spells that could reduce muscles swollen to the extent his were. 

Her mind raced back to the Muggle Medicine course Dumbledore had strongly suggested she take back in her seventh year. She could still hear her teacher's voice, a kind hearted little witch, speaking about setting bones and joints popped out of place. 

Truly, the only option was for her to do it herself, but she wasn't certain she could. Setting a shoulder joint was incredibly hard work under the best of times, and by the swollen, tender look of it, the muscles were probably pulling on the joint incredibly hard. She eyed Malfoy appraisingly, and then attempted to prop him up in a sitting position. 

He was a good deal heavier than he looked, and like most people, a great deal larger than she was. She muttered a cooling spell directly at the swollen muscles, doubtful that it would do any measure of good nearly forty-eight hours after the injury, but she needed all the help she could get. After a few moments, she prodded the injury gently again. It felt a tiny bit loser, but not enough to aid her considerably. 

Ginny slid herself behind him, bracing his body weight with her body. She needed to get the bone at the proper angle before she could slip it back into the joint. His breath hitched and he moaned. She paused, and then gingerly picked his wrist up, gripping his elbow in at the same time. She cupped his elbow and then whipped it up and began pushing it in. 

Her heels were digging into the floor and beads of sweat were standing on her forehead by the time she heard an audible 'pop' as the joint slid back in. Malfoy's breathing began returning to normal almost immediately. She lay the arm down and collapsed on the canvas floor of the tent, draping an arm over her eyes. 

After a few moments, she sat back up and lay a hand on his forehead. He was still hot, though not burning as he'd been before. She brought his robes up to his chin, and shook her head in disbelief. 

Whoever would have thought in a million years that she'd be tucking Draco Malfoy into bed?

****

Author's Note again: If you would like to be notified when I update, leave your email address in your review or email me at gac_tera@hotmail.com and let me know. I did start a SK group a few months ago, found here: . I would appreciate it very much if you all would join and post away, as there are two members right now and I feel like a really big loser :o) Basically, the only thing on there right now is the fic (under files, of course) so please, I beseech you all. 

Thank you to the incredible, patient reviewers:

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Dukerbrown: Thanks so much! **Dilkara:** Oh, I feel so flattered! Thanks for the review. **Mora**: Ask and you shall receive! **BlackMage3**: I'm crazy about you ;) Thank you! **Erised**: Hey, now that's an idea! And about Harry… hey, ya never know ;o) **Jessa**: Oh I'm so relieved! Characterization has always been a big problem with me. I'm so happy that you love Ginny!! **ravenclawsweethear283**: Will do :o) **SamiJo**: I'm so sorry to keep you waiting. Thank you! **Grace**: First off, you have the prettiest name ever. Second, your review practically made my day! I've just added you. **Jeru**: Your English sounds all right to me! Thanks. **OutofAzkaban**: I tried… what do you think? Thanks for reviewing. **Hallee87**: I'm sorry about the wait. **Tris**: Have just added you. Your review was so nice. Thanks for the compliments. **Zelle**: HEY! I'm so glad I made you laugh. I try :o) I'm so sorry I haven't been over to your stories lately. I'll be going over there as soon as I'm able!!! **Jambagurlie**: Thanks so much! **Rea**: THANK YOU FOR EVERYTHINGGGGG! **Malkavian Kirie Croiff:** thanks! **Indigo Child**: Thanks for reviewing three times! Your reviews were so in-depth and kind. And can I just mention that I was three seconds away from naming a character Meredith in this? I love your name! I'm terribly sorry about the long wait. **Vanessa**: Thank you!! I'm so sorry about the wait. **Emaleth84**: Thanks! 

Until next time my lovelies


	5. IV

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Disclaimer: It ain't mine. 

****

Thanks to Rea, my lone beta reader because I'm a moron. Jess, if you see this, email me ASAP!

Hello my darling readers; that is, if that you still are readers. It's me, Ren, the worst author in the entire world. In all honesty, I'm utterly unsurprised if you assumed I would not be continuing this story – considering the fact that I haven't updated it since October the 12, 2003. Basically, I suck incredibly hard author ass. Anyway, here's chapter four, an utterly boring chapter that has undergone absolutely no revision for almost a month and half now. I keep waiting for more artistic feeling to strike me, and since January 19, nothing has come to add to this chapter. So basically, you've been waiting unnecessarily for quite some time. 

Chapter Four

__

We know what we are, but we know not what we may be.

--Shakespeare, _Hamlet_

The room was filled with many important looking pieces of equipment, official looking documents and photographs, complicated looking instruments and other whatnots all meant to aid someone in the location of others. Despite this, Calynn Markova was not doing what she was supposed to be doing. 

Instead, she was immersed in last week's Witch Weekly, discovering the benefits of the latest in magical contraceptives.

Not that anyone could really blame her, as four days of staring at a blank map would be tedious to anybody. 

Therefore, when a spot on the map of Wales and western England to her right began to glow green, she didn't notice for quite some time.

Her chin rested upon her right hand while her left hand idly turned pages and occasionally rubbed her tired eyes. She'd just turned around in her swivel chair, about to sift through her private drawer for a nail file, when Patricia Parkinson stopped in for a chat. Patricia did, in fact, posses the pug nose that characterized her family (a long term result of long term inbreeding, Calynn's brother said), though it was not nearly so pronounced on her young face as it was on her older sister, Pansy's. 

Patricia's hair was a golden blonde, but it was suggested rather pointedly in quietly relayed gossip that it shimmered so only with the aid of magical enhancements. Calynn knew this was true, as she'd grown up with Patricia and was quite certain it was actually a rather dull dishwater blonde. Calynn reached up and stroked her own hair for a short moment, smirking a bit as she relished the fact that her own golden blonde hair was golden of its own accord. 

Patricia's eyes narrowed, and, leaning over Calynn's shoulder a bit, she said, "Oh, I thought you'd be reading that article! When I read it last week, my first thought was to show it to you… You know, Cal, you can never be too careful," Patricia murmured, sending a smug glance Calynn's way. "Especially when your lifestyle is as… wild… as your own!" 

Calynn felt her eyes narrow and forced a smile to her lips. "How… considerate of you, Patricia." She ran a hand through her hair again. 

The two women stood in tense silence for a moment, until Patricia asked suddenly, "What's that glowing there?" The previously mentioned map had, of course, been enchanted with a spell locator, similar to the one used by the blasted Ministry. The code, scratched out on a piece of parchment spell-o-taped to the upper right hand corner of the map, revealed that "Green = Lt. D. Malfoy". 

Calynn whirled around and sucked in her breath. She tapped her wand to the spot, which was in a forest quite a bit to the south of them, and murmured, "Appareo." Slowly, words began spelling themselves out in the air above the map, starting with a simple lighting spell. She relaxed slightly, but she still wasn't sure… Would Draco be stupid enough to begin to use magic? He was well into Wales, but over forty-five miles from the nearest friendly camp. 

Next came several conjuring spells… A tent? Malfoy wanted a bloody tent, after doing quite all right without one for the past several days? 

Last came a cooling spell that healers used to reduce swelling. 

What the hell? Calynn wondered. Was the Alliance brat injured? Calynn hesitated a moment before turning to Patricia. "Excuse me a moment, I have to go find Piergallini." 

Leaving a startled Patricia staring after her, Calynn swept out of the room, her robes flying out behind her as she walked at a brisk pace down the dark hallway. It was very late (or very early, depending on how you looked at it) and Calynn was sure that even Piergallini would be asleep at this hour. She reached his room in record time and rapped sharply on the door. After a moment of hearing nothing, she knocked again, harder this time. 

Finally, a few moments later, a sleepy Piergallini arrived at the door, his short dark hair spiked up from running his fingers through it. "Dammit Cal, what the hell is it?"

"Malfoy… Malfoy's wand signature came up on the map, not five minutes ago."

"Well what the hell are you telling me for?" he asked sleepily, glancing at his watch. 

Calynn faltered a bit, unsure of how to reply. "What do you mean?"

"Didn't anyone tell you? O'Rourke got home 'bout four days ago. He 'n Malfoy are in charge of the Weasley assignment. Go tell him about it and let me go back to sleep."

The blood began draining out of Calynn's face. "O'Rourke… Brian's here?" She whispered slowly, attempting to compose herself. She noticed Piergallini's appraising eyes and blushed slightly. Her attitude went from shocked to brusque: "Well why the hell didn't you tell me when he got home?" she demanded incredulously. 

"Dunno. Forgot. He's in the officer's corridor. Now go away."

With that, Piergallini shut the door in her face, leaving her standing in the deserted hallway by herself. She began walking again, not as quickly as before, back the way she'd come. She walked up an ancient, twisting stone staircase, automatically skipping the loose step. "Need to tell someone to fix that," she muttered to herself, not really having any intention of doing so. 

Her pace slowed even more when she reached another deserted corridor – the officer's chambers. These rooms were slightly more luxurious than those inhabited by the regular troops, though not very significantly so. She had no idea where O'Rourke would be shacked up this time; he hadn't been here since before she'd gotten out of Durmstrang three years ago. Instead of being stationed permanently here at Dinas Bran, like her brother Mattoloch was, O'Rourke spent his time moving from fort to fort, castle to castle. He'd been in the south of Wales at Dryslwyn last she'd heard, but that had been months ago. How was it possible that she, who knew so much about O'Rourke's simplest movements under normal circumstances, had neglected to know that he had been under the same roof as her for four days? How had she not known? 

Calynn came to a complete stop at the start of the officer's corridor, deciding her best bet was to go to her brother's room and ask him where O'Rourke was. She walked briskly down to her brother's room, fumbling in her robes for her lipstick as she went. She stopped outside her brother's door and knocked once, and upon hearing nothing, began to turn the creaky handle. 

The door was old and the hinges squeaked. Calynn saw her brother, features barely discernable, sit up in bed, his wand out and in position fast as lightning. He hissed, "Who the hell is there?"

Calynn opened her mouth to reply when a shape – she'd thought it was blankets, honestly – next to her brother shifted and a very feminine voice muttered groggily, "What is it, Matt?"

Calynn felt the blood rushing to her face and covered her freshly lipstick-ed mouth with a clammy hand. "Oh dear god," she moaned, squeezing her eyes shut and feeling as if her whole body was blushing. 

"Cal, is that you?" her brother asked, leaning back against the pillows and throwing an arm about the shape – the shape whose voice sounded suspiciously like Patricia's older sister, Pansy's. Calynn wrinkled her nose in distaste – surely her brother could do better than that. 

"Yes… yes, Matt, it's me," she muttered finally, getting back on track. "I just need to know… Where is O'Rourke's room? Draco's wand's just come up and Piergallini told me that O'Rourke was back…"

The female (who was definitely Pansy Parkinson) snuggled into Matt's chest. "He's right next door on the… left. I think. Just do him a favor and knock first before you go in there." 

"Thank you very much," Calynn hesitated. "But I did knock. It's not my fault you're bloody deaf." 

"Good night Calynn."

"Good night, dear Mattoloch."

"Too late," he muttered. 

"Oh shut up," she sneered, shutting the door with a snap.

When she was back in the hall, she glanced about, making sure she was alone. Calynn leaned against an ancient tapestry depicting the second major goblin rebellion, led of course by Cynric the Ugly. She smoothed her hair and her robes, wishing she'd bothered to put her best ones on this morning. She took a deep breath, knowing it was a lost cause, and knocked on O'Rourke's door. 

She tapped her foot impatiently for a second, and stopped immediately when she heard a quiet, "Hang on a minute." 

Her hands flew back up to her hair and she tried again to repair any late night damage, knowing as she did it, that it was in vain.

Suddenly, the door flew open, and a groggy eyed O'Rourke looked down at her. He wore loose fitting blue pajama pants, and the white T-shirt he had on made him look even more appealing than he usually did. A lock of dark hair fell into his eyes, and he brushed it out of his handsome face before he squinted at her a moment, asking wearily, "Can I help you?"

Calynn's heart sank. He didn't remember her after all. "Well, um, actually, I was assigned to watching for, erm, wand signatures. And it, uh, Lieutenant Malfoy's just showed up on the map--"

O'Rourke became instantly awake. "Malfoy? Where was it on the map? What spell was it?" 

"Well, it was in Wales… in the south east, where we're not very heavily fortified. I was a bit surprised to see that he'd used magic, but--"

"What spell was it?" he asked again, his voice harsh. 

"Uhh… the first was a simple lighting spell, but then he started conjuring things, and then… oh, then there was a healing spell."

At that, O'Rourke narrowed his eyes suddenly, contemplative. "What healing spell?"

"It was a cooling spell, to reduce swelling," Calynn said quietly, biting her lower lip softly.

He stared at her a moment longer before snapping, "Wait here." 

O'Rourke emerged a few moments later pulling one of his standard issue black robes over his head. "Well come on now, you've wasted far too much time already." He grabbed her upper arm, dragging her down the hallway so she had to run to keep up. 

When they finally reached the room where Calynn had been stationed, O'Rourke sent a quick look at the map before saying, "If I don't come back in a few minutes, I'm there," he said, jabbing the still glowing green spot on the map. 

Calynn hesitated a moment, rocking back and forth on her heels slightly. When she saw him begin preparing for the apparition, she muttered, "I could go with you."

"No, you can't."

Calynn gasped indignantly, her hands on her hips. "And why not?"

O'Rourke rolled his eyes. "Because, Calynn, you are way too young and if I let you go, your brother would hex me, that's why. Not to mention that this could be dangerous; Aurors could have taken over the site and used Draco's wand…"

"I'm nearly twenty-one years old, Brian!" She stopped suddenly, and looked at him. "You remembered me," she said quietly, looking up at him with a slight smile playing at her lips. 

He looked at her queerly. "Why wouldn't I have? You always were stubborn as bloody hell. But you still can't come."

"I'm stubborn?" She gasped indignantly. "But Brian, you could wind up needing my help! I'm really quite good at throwing curses, and if Malfoy's hurt, I know lots of healing spells…"

Brian stared at her a minute, seeming to be weighing his options. "Dammit," he said resignedly. "Can you apparate?" Hhe asked finally. 

"Yes, of course."

"Can you find the coordinates?"

She looked down at the map and nodded. 

"Do you have your wand?"

She nodded again. 

"Do you swear to god you won't tell your brother about this?"

"We're in a hurry, O'Rourke."

"All right… go, I'll be after you in a few seconds."

Calynn smirked arrogantly at him for a moment, but her face slid into a grin as she disappeared. He stared at the place she'd been standing for a moment, slightly startled at how dazzling her smile had become, and with a shake of his head, disappeared as well. 

-*-

Ginny had straddled the broom again when she heard the sounds of two people apparating. She turned, barely daring to hope that they were Aurors, and felt her heart drop into her stomach when she realized it was the same dark haired man from the night Malfoy had kidnapped her, and a blonde young woman she'd never seen before. 

"Bloody fucking figures," she muttered, pushing off the ground anyway. 

She was not at all surprised when she heard a sharp cry of "Stupefy!" echo through the trees. She was even less surprised when she felt the spell hit her and she fell off the broom, landing with a thud on the wet leaves. 

"Accio Nimbus!"

The man caught it as it sailed through the air, and then walked across the clearing to hoist her up out of the mud. "Why do I feel like I've been in this situation before?" he muttered sarcastically, rolling his eyes at her. "Miss Weasley. How are you? Let's go see what you've been up to…" He bound her wrists in front of her and shackled her ankles, and then he reached into the left pocket of her robes and plucked Malfoy's wand from it before releasing the stupefication. He shone his wand light about the clearing for a moment, and upon seeing nothing, he asked, "You didn't kill him, did you?"

"No, as a matter of fact, I didn't!" Ginny snapped, feeling yet another new sore spot as she hastily tried to scramble out of his arms, an attempt that left her, yet again, on her bottom on the muddy ground. She looked up at O'Rourke and glared at him before sneering, "Though I ruddy well could have left him to die if I'd been an evil person, like him… or you, come to think of it!"

He shook his head at her and reached down again to give her a hand. Ginny ignored him and tried (unsuccessfully) to stand on her own. Finally, O'Rourke bent and hefted her up, his rather large hands grasping underneath her armpits with a bit too much force, in Ginny's opinion. 

"Where is he, Weasley?" O'Rourke inquired, almost conversationally. 

"In the tent, obviously," she replied, gesturing in the direction opposite that he'd looked earlier. The blonde raised her lit wand, seeming startled when she saw the impromptu tent erected a few yards away. 

"He's injured, then?" O'Rourke asked, trying to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach. 

"Yes of course."

"It's not bloody, is it?" O'Rourke muttered with a sidelong glance at the blonde. 

Ginny noticed the girl stiffen as she spoke her first words of the night. "I think I can handle it, Brian," she murmured, her Welsh accent obvious even though she spoke softly. Despite her innocent demeanor, her eyes were narrowed at O'Rourke, and she looked at him as though daring him to tell her she couldn't enter the tent. 

"Cal, your brother would skin me alive-"

"It's really not bad," Ginny cut in, her eyebrows drawn together as she looked from one to the other as if at a tennis match. "Just a broken arm that went untreated for far too long. He has a fever, but it broke a few minutes ago."

O'Rourke glanced at the girl again. Her back stiffened and she crossed her arms, glaring at him. "All right, all right, fine." 

Ginny led the way to the tent, hobbling a bit due to the blasted leg shackles. "See, look. He's all in once piece, thanks to me, I might add."

"Let me see his arm." 

Ginny did, trying to kneel. The shackles made it impossible, so she sank down onto her knees instead. "Look… the joint was pushed out of the socket and then it's broken a bit further down. Rather nasty injury, couldn't have been much fun letting it fester for a few days."

"How did it happen?"

She paused, thinking. "I believe he fell out of a tree, but as I wasn't present at the site of the injury, I couldn't very well tell you for certain. But that would seem right, see the angle of the break there?"

O'Rourke looked at it, seeing nothing that made it look any different from any other broken arm. "Um, yes, of course…"

Weasley looked up at him, her mouth twisted in a bitter smile. She glanced at the blonde girl, but Ginny was obviously asking the question of O'Rourke. "Who's this?"

The blonde girl glowered, tossing her hair and narrowing her eyes. "My name is Calynn Markova," she said icily. She turned to O'Rourke, "What are we to do now, then?"

He hesitated a moment, glancing from Malfoy's still sleeping form to Ginny. Finally, he looked at Calynn. "You are going back to the castle, and taking Malfoy with you. I'll complete the journey with the absolutely lovely," – he smirked – "Miss Weasley."

Ginny gasped indignantly. "What is with you people? It's my fault that I'm dirty? I've been a hostage in the wilderness for god knows how long! If you want me to be clean, show me a bathroom, dammit."

Calynn frowned at this, but ignored Ginny and said, "I haven't mastered double apparition yet."

"Well no, that would take far too long anyway." Seeing the confused look on Calynn's face, he muttered, "We'll work on it later. Wake Draco up, Weasley," he said, looking at Ginny then, "and he'll have to manage it himself."

-*-

Draco had always despised smelling salts. His mother had used them frequently, typically when there were guests at the manor, enjoying herself immensely while she put on a great show of succumbing to the vapors at the reception of some bad news or the sight of blood. The thought made him want to smile, for if a gory injury had ever made his mother sick, it hadn't been at any time he'd known her. Draco missed his mother a great deal. She remained at Malfoy Manor while he moved through Wales and the middle of England, and his father traveled through Scandinavia searching for the pockets of rebellion that lingered there. Draco hadn't seen her since last Christmas. 

Though he knew it was ridiculous, he still opened his eyes expecting to see his mother when he became aware of the smelling salts. There was a slight smile on his face when his eyes opened, but it quickly disappeared as he realized who was leaning over him. 

It was, of course, Ginny-bloody-Weasley, her brows furrowed slightly as she drew her hand away from his nose. His eyes followed her as she recapped the small bottle of salts, and then said, "Yes, see, he's coming to now. I told you this would work."

It was only then that Draco realized that she wasn't alone, and someone else held the wand that cast light into his eyes – Brian? Draco looked at him, trying to clear his head. He opened his mouth to protest his invalid state: "Came to, Weasley. Trying to kill me, were you? Leaving me here to die?"

Weasley stared at him a moment, as if she couldn't decide how to respond. Then suddenly, her eyes narrowed furiously. "Yes! Yes, that was exactly what I was trying to do. I was flying away on your broom with your wand when these two showed up!" She stood then, wiping her hands on her filthy robes. "He's yours," she said, glaring at O'Rourke. "I'll do no more for him."

Draco glanced quickly at O'Rourke, expecting him to argue with her. Instead, he said nothing to Weasley and spoke to Draco. "Do you think you can manage to apparate to the castle now?"

Sending an uneasy glance at Weasley's turned back, he muttered, "Yes… yes of course."

"Calynn will help you whenever you're ready."

Startled, Draco looked up and saw the blonde girl staring at him for the first time. She gave him a small smile, which he returned slowly. "Markova… Calynn Markova. I haven't seen you in years," he said slowly, his voice trailing off. Calynn Markova… she'd certainly gotten pretty over the years, what with her golden hair and deep dimples. She was curvy and almost… buxom, to use a horribly outdated word. Assuredly more attractive than the skinny and short boy-like figure of Ginny Weasley, Draco thought suddenly, sending a glare at her back. 

"Are you ready?" Calynn asked him.

"Oh… yeah," Draco murmured, sitting up slowly, fighting the wave of nausea that struck him. It was only when he reached up with his left hand to rub the back of his neck did he notice his bound elbow and splintered arm. He frowned, sending another glance at Weasley's back as she began packing the tent. She seemed to feel his eyes on her, and she turned around, her face utterly expressionless, as if she dared him to speak to her. 

He turned from her back to Calynn, and said, "Let's go."

Author's Note once more: Thank you's next chapter! I love you all, and I hope you enjoyed this chapter. :) I do apologize for the shortness of it, however. Hopefully, chapter five will be up in less than five months, but after that catastrophe, I'm not making any promises ^_^ 

If you would like to be notified when I update, leave your email address in your review or email me at gac_tera@hotmail.com and let me know. 

Until next time my lovelies --


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